Exploring the crazy phenomenon of post-‘Avatar’ depression
Post-Avatar Depression Syndrome, a term that emerged following the release of James Cameron‘s 2009 cinematic bonanza, Avatar, encapsulates a bizarre phenomenon experienced by many viewers after watching the film. At its core, it’s a profound longing and melancholy — a yearning to be part of the breathtakingly beautiful alien world of Pandora that Cameron meticulously crafted.
The film itself is an extravaganza of unparalleled visual delights. Set in the mid-22nd century, Avatar plunges viewers into the lush, bioluminescent rainforests of Pandora, a moon orbiting the gas giant Polyphemus in the Alpha Centauri star system. Inhabited by the Na’vi, a humanoid species with their own rich culture and language, Pandora is depicted as an Edenic paradise, untouched by the scars of industrialisation and war. This is a stark contrast to Earth, which, in the story at least, has been ravaged by human exploitation.
For nearly three hours, audiences were submerged in this verdant dreamscape, witnessing sweeping landscapes of floating mountains, enormous ancient trees, and exotic creatures that seemed to leap from the most vivid imaginations. Cameron’s attention to detail was so intricate that the very air of Pandora, filled with spores of glowing organisms, felt palpable.
But it wasn’t just the visual richness of Pandora that ensnared viewers – it was its ethos. The Na’vi, while technologically primitive compared to the human invaders, had a profound spiritual connection with their environment. Through the ‘tsaheylu’ or bond, they could connect to Pandora’s neural network, a literal manifestation of the interconnectedness of all life on their moon.
This symbiotic relationship with nature and the respect for all living beings stood in sharp contrast to the corporate and military-driven human mission to mine Pandora for unobtanium, a rare mineral. The core message was clear: we’ve lost touch with the essence of life and nature in pursuing material wealth.
When the credits rolled, many viewers felt an unexpected void. They’d been so deeply entrenched in Pandora’s world that returning to our present-day Earth’s mundane reality felt jarring. The brightness and idealism of Pandora, juxtaposed against our world’s complexities, made the blues set in even deeper. Many reported sadness, dissatisfaction, and an even suicidal longing to return to Pandora, a place they’d only known for a few hours but felt deeply connected to.
While PADS is not a medically recognised condition, it’s still a palpable and observed phenomenon – as much as it might cause you to raise an eyebrow and question why Avatar, out of all the films in existence(?), the experiences of PADS ‘sufferers’ are nonetheless real.
A dedicated fan estimated that 10-20 per cent of people using Avatar fan forums reported experiencing it. As Dr Stephan Quentzel, a New York psychiatrist, told CNN: “It has taken the best of our technology to create this virtual world, and real life will never be as utopian as it seems on-screen.” In other words: “It makes real life seem more imperfect.”
